


a game is something you can win

by el_em_en_oh_pee



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Biting, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Cunnilingus, Dry Humping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemy Lovers, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fingerfucking, Grief/Mourning, Kinda, Multi, New Girl Comes To Town And Fucks Shit Up, Painplay, Post-Break Up, Sad Hurt Girl Fucks Even More Shit Up, Secret Relationship, and have sex about it, and thinks the only way to feel good is to be a total jerk!!!!, cheryl doesn't know who she is or what she wants besides her brother back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-22 09:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9602426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_em_en_oh_pee/pseuds/el_em_en_oh_pee
Summary: When Betty pulls away, mouth smeared with Veronica's lipstick, she looks guiltily at Cheryl.It's not like Cheryl has allowed herself to miss Betty even once since that day that they broke off thewhatevergoing on between them for good, but. This is just one step too far.set during S01E01-02





	

**Author's Note:**

> what the fuck have i done. i don't even go here. thx to sarah for the beta (and reminder of betty's TOTALLY SMEARED LIPSTICK after that tryouts kiss!!!!!), and thanks to jasmine and ani for reading through it even though they go here even less than me!
> 
> anyway yadda yadda the alternate title of this is "dumb hurt girl tries to make everyone else hurt as bad as she does with her words and then has sex about it with her body: the fic" (i love cheryl??? who am i??? but this is super not a cheryl apologist fic). the actual title is a lyric from the sneaker pimps' [bloodsport](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YHiYaBqgZc). ( _sex and love is not a game / a game is something you can win_ )

Jason was supposed to have gotten Cheryl a message by now. 

They'd had everything planned, every last detail worked out, which was _not_ the usual style of the Blossom twins. Cheryl is calculating, sure, but she does her best work on the fly, working out how to react to situations that arise instead of setting up for situations that may or may not come down the line. Jason is beautiful and deeply caring and closed-off in turn, but he's never been the brains of the operation. The detail-oriented organizational stuff is more of a Cooper thing than a Blossom thing. 

Cheryl supposes the Cooper planning has rubbed off on both of them a little. Jason has his public navigation of Polly and Polly's crazy and his feelings about both of those things. Plus there's Cheryl's own incredibly secret and incredibly emotionally fraught _thing_ with Betty. Betty's _totally_ -anal rigidity with her schedule and all of her responsibilities rubbed off on Cheryl, but it was the care they both had to take to make sure that no one - not even Polly and Jason - found out that they were kind of an item that really taught Cheryl about attending to the minutia.

So Jason was supposed to have messaged her by now, but there haven't been any messages from unknown numbers on her burner phone, or any cryptic tweets sent her way by an anonymous, adoring fan. Nor has there been any news about a disturbance at Polly's facility, or announcements of guys who look weirdly like that kid who drowned and disappeared, but with dark hair and different-colored eyes, and Cheryl is getting worried.

It's easy to act like everything is okay at school, despite the loss of her twin and best friend. At first it's because she knows she hasn't actually lost him. But time elapses, more and more of it, and there's no word from him. It's still pretty easy to act like everything is okay, though. _No news is good news_ , Cheryl tells herself.

She avoids Betty. She _hates_ Betty more than any other single person in the entire town, wants Betty to hurt like Cheryl once hurt, even though, deep down, she knows that Betty left their non-relationship with just as much pain and anger as Cheryl did. But if there's anything that Betty's taught her, it's how to act like nothing is wrong, even when your world is falling apart around you. Nights spent sneaking out and pressing Betty up against her bedroom wall when her mom was busy being distracted by Polly going out with Jason, dragging her sharp nails down Betty's front and wanting, desperately, to reach even lower but holding herself back, nudging Betty's shirt up to bite at her breasts just this side of too hard will do that to a person. The world-shattering fight they had, pulling out all the punches and going for the meanest of the comments first so soon after they started letting themselves trust and come to like each other went even further in teaching Cheryl how to act like everything is a-okay.

And at first, because no news is good news, it's not even like her world is falling apart. Sure, the rest of the town thinks it should be - Jason drowned, after all; he was her best friend and now he's gone. But she's solid in the knowledge that they pulled it off, that he got away, that he's going to be fine, and any worry she has at the fact that he hasn't reached out to her in any way is easy enough to deal with.

So she focuses on other things. That Lodge girl comes to Riverdale with her mom, tails between their legs, and Cheryl watches her with thinly-veiled interest until she notices Betty doing the same. She catches sight of the way that Veronica Lodge is already tracking Betty, facing her whenever Betty's talking, leaning in and laughing, acting like they're the best of friends on her first day of school, and something curdles in the pit of her stomach, toxic and heavy. 

"Hey," she says, walking up to the table that Betty and Veronica are sharing with Kevin, pushing Betty out of the way so that she can address Veronica directly. Betty nudges against Cheryl's side when Cheryl bumps her out of the way. Cheryl's skin immediately breaks out into goosebumps, the hairs on her arms rising even as traitorous warmth flushes through her.

She ignores it. 

"Try out for the River Vixens!" she tells Veronica, allowing herself to be visibly pleased when Veronica agrees, forcing herself to not flinch when Veronica announces that Betty will be trying out, too.

Cheryl can't stop herself from making a snide comment at that, one about Betty's eating and weight loss that she _knows_ will work its way under her skin and bother her for the rest of the day, casting a dismissive glance at Betty as she does. She knows that she's the evil one in this breakup - if it can be called that - that even with her brother allegedly dead, there's no excuse to be such a heinous bitch.

Well. Heartbreak, but she's not going to give that name to her feelings. She doesn't want to ever have been invested enough in Betty Cooper for it to be true.

She can't even look at Betty the next day, when Betty shows up perky and ready to try out for the Vixens. Her hair is pulled back tight, curling into her little ponytail, corner of her mouth etched deep into a near-grimace.

Cheryl used to know what that little quirk of Betty's mouth felt like under her tongue and her lips and her teeth. Cheryl won't ever let herself revisit those memories, though. The softness of Betty's skin and the fuzz of the hair on her cheek and the heavy medicinal burn of her Blistex chapstick, applied liberally over where she would gnaw on her lips when lost in thought - it's all too much.

She doesn't want Betty anymore, not really. Not wanting anyone to have Betty, either, even though their whatever-it-was is over doesn't count as wanting Betty.

She averts her eyes and focuses on Veronica, the line of Veronica's arms as she thrusts them through the air, the curve of Veronica's thigh under her gym shorts. Veronica Lodge is a beautiful, sexy girl, and if circumstances were different - if Veronica hadn't immediately glommed on to Betty; if Cheryl wasn't so distracted by how Jason hasn't even sent up a single fucking smoke signal yet - Cheryl would have made a move already.

The thing is: for all that Veronica Lodge talks a big game about being on the cheer team at her old school, her routine is boring as shit. Cheryl isn't being a bitch by thinking so - well, she's a self-avowed bitch about all things, so she probably actually is, but bitchy or not, it's true. Simple arm-waving hasn't been the hallmark of a killer cheerleading contender since, like, the 70s. 

"Ladies," she says, forcing herself to not roll her eyes at the way they shake their pom-poms and grin at each other after the routine - if you can even _call_ it that. "Where's the heat? Where's the sizzle?"

Veronica gives her an alarmed look, gaze darting over to Betty. "Well," she says. "You haven't seen our big finish yet."

And then that bitch - Veronica Lodge, whose family is all over the news because of her criminal father - has the _audacity_ to reach over to Betty and drag her in for a kiss. As soon as Betty figures out what Veronica is trying to do, she shoots an alarmed look at Cheryl, but then their lips are touching, Veronica's hands cupping Betty's face, stroking gently along her hairline as she parts her lips. 

Cheryl can't see tongue from where she's sitting, but she _does_ see red. It gets even worse when Betty starts to kiss Veronica back, leaning in, ponytail bouncing. Cheryl has never seen Betty kiss from this perspective before, has never seen the way that Betty's hair moves when she starts to get into it. She just knows how it feels, flicking over her hands when she used to put them exactly where Veronica's are right now.

 _You don't even like her_ , Cheryl reminds herself. Even if she had any lingering feelings for Betty, they would have been completely demolished in their last fight, with all the horrible things they said to each other in frantic, caustic whispers. 

If Cheryl were being fair, she'd admit that Betty's rage made sense, given what happened between Jason and Polly. But Cheryl's never pretended like her number one priority isn't her brother, and when Betty had called Cheryl out on his behavior, Cheryl had called Betty out on every single one of her weaknesses. 

It's not like Betty didn't return the favor before she stormed out.

It's not like Cheryl has allowed herself to miss Betty even once since that day.

She still has to roll her eyes as an excuse to look away from the shitshow in front of her. 

When Betty pulls away, mouth smeared with Veronica's lipstick, she looks guiltily at Cheryl. That's just one step too far, and rage builds up behind Cheryl's eyes.

She takes a deep breath and starts working through the laundry list of Betty's weaknesses: she calls Betty - and Veronica - fake lesbians. She brings up Polly. She tells Betty that she's boring, which pretty much used to be one of Betty's biggest fears in the world. 

She doesn't let herself feel a single shred of guilt about it. She doesn't let her thoughts flick to inappropriate interpretations of Veronica saying Cheryl will have to take them both, either.

Instead, when Veronica threatens Cheryl and declares that she and Betty are a package deal, something twinges in Cheryl's heart. She pushes it away. She'll hear from Jason any day now; he'll send her some kind of signal. She doesn't particularly care about making up with Betty, but Betty will apologize to her soon enough, and Cheryl will be able to use that and lord it over Betty and feel better about everything in the process. Even the way that Veronica is looking at Betty while Betty is staring, red-faced, at Cheryl. _Especially_ the way Veronica is looking at Betty. 

Cheryl had thought that Archie Andrews was going to be her biggest threat, what with how Betty seemed to be talking herself into getting a crush on him after she and Cheryl split up for the last time. She didn't expect Veronica fucking Lodge to show up like this. She didn't expect anyone to fall for Betty that quickly. Betty is sweet - annoyingly so, and that probably works for some people - but she's also mostly awful at hiding what a giant mess she actually is from the world. Cheryl hadn't expected anyone to be into that. 

_Except me_ , a tiny part of her pipes up, but she tamps it down. After all, the only thing interesting about Betty Cooper, back when they were dating, or fucking, or whatever, was keeping her a secret from the town. Also, from their parents. Mostly from their parents. 

Still, when Veronica drags Betty to her dance afterparty, Cheryl delights in sending Veronica to the closet with Archie. The feeling she gets when Betty stares after them, stock-still for a full two minutes after the door closes… she almost laughs with it. In that moment, Cheryl does not know whether Betty is upset about the Veronica or the Archie of it all, or both, and she most certainly does not care. 

The threat of Betty's reaction to Cheryl getting with Archie gave her a thrill. This may be even better.

Cheryl doesn't think she could ever possibly ride higher on sick glee than she does in the moment that Betty hightails it out of her house. It's the best night she's had since she and Jason put their plan into action.

And then Kevin fucking Keller and Moose fucking Mason find Jason's body, washed up on the shore of the river, and the bottom drops out of Cheryl's world.

+++

It comes and goes in waves, and Cheryl can't keep up. She'll spend ten minutes thinking that Jason will pop up and laugh, tell her that a fake body was the best way to let her know that he's all right, and then she'll come to her senses and it's all that she can do to keep from doubling over and dry-heaving in front of the entire school.

Things pass in a blur around her, out of focus and not making any sense at all. It takes her longer to tune into what people are saying to her than she'd ever like to admit, and when she does, the fight to make the words sound like anything but adults in Peanuts cartoons is nearly impossible. 

But she has an image to carry. Jason's been dead since the summer, according to everyone else in the town. This isn't news to anyone but her. She has to force herself to carry on conversations about him without throwing up. 

Nothing is familiar, in this world without her brother. Not even tormenting Betty feels good. She tries to push through, climb back onto her Queen Bitch pedestal and act like the discovery of Jason's body didn't send her into the biggest tailspin of her entire life, but it's hard. It's so hard.

It doesn't help that people are confronting her about what happened with Jason. Cheryl tells them what she tells everyone - that the two of them fell out of the boat (true) and that she got out (also true) and that it's possible that Jason got to the other side of the river instead of drowning, like she'd initially said (definitely true). But who could have shot him? Who could have hurt him?

Polly could have, if she hadn't understood the message that he was coming for her, but Polly's in that home. The elder Coopers could have, too, then, especially if they _had_ intercepted Jason's message. 

Cheryl _really_ doesn't trust Betty's family. And that Jughead kid is a fucking creep and he's obsessed with death and shit, so. Cheryl isn't ruling him out, either. 

Cheryl feels the most herself at River Vixens practice, enough that she can lecture the girls on how she's totally fine and not swamped by her emotions at all. 

It gets better when, after practice has disbanded and after she's put in a call to her friend Josie, she overhears Veronica and Betty fighting about that night in the closet. 

_Good job, girl_ she tells herself, and tries not to let warmth flush through her when Betty tells Veronica, "At least Cheryl's not putting on an act."

Betty is wrong, and Cheryl really shouldn't feel _good_ about Betty saying something about her that isn't awful for the first time since that fight, but it's given her the most clarity she's felt since her beloved brother's body washed up. 

So she waits and listens to the fight brewing between Betty and Veronica, the way Veronica says "Most of the time, the people we like don't like us back," with a little hitch in her voice, like maybe she wants Betty to like her back. 

Cheryl also shouldn't feel pleased that Betty might not want Veronica the way that Veronica clearly wants her.

To cut herself off from a dangerous line of thinking, she interrupts their fight, as glibly as she can manage.

"Sorry, ladies, am I interrupting?" she asks, smiling at the two of them.

"Actually," Betty says. "I was about to come find you."

And then she's inviting Cheryl to get mani-pedis with her. 

Cheryl gives her a scrutinizing look, trying to figure out if Betty is serious or if she's just mad at Veronica. When Veronica tries to stop Betty from making the offer, though, something inside Cheryl breaks. 

She shouldn't be happy about this. She shouldn't be happy about _anything_. Her brother is _dead_.

"Butt out, closet-monster," she tells Veronica, not even bothering to hide her distaste for the girl who's been so adamantly trying to pursue her secret sort-of ex. "You have forfeited your right to take the high-and-mighty road." She gives Betty one more piercing look, and when Betty meets her gaze head-on, anticipation swells up inside Cheryl. "But of course," she ends up saying. "I never say no to a pedi. I was just about to suggest the same thing!"

Veronica huffs a little, and Cheryl decides to go for broke. "Can I steal her for a second?" she asks Veronica, giving her a look that tells Veronica that she knows exactly what Veronica is trying to do here, and that it's not going to work. 

And then she wraps her hand around Betty's and leads her out of the room.

Miraculously, Betty willingly follows.

"Cheryl--" Betty says, once they've pushed through the changing rooms and into equipment storage area. "What is it?"

Cheryl hasn't actually thought through what's going to happen next, beyond making Veronica jealous, but Betty hasn't pulled her hand free, yet, and that gives Cheryl an idea. "You okay, Betts?"

Betty narrows her eyes at Cheryl. "Cher, we hate each other now."

"You just invited me to get my nails done with you," Cheryl points out. "Clearly you hate me less than Veronica, for whatever reason."

"She just -" Betty takes a deep breath and sighs, then gives Cheryl a look like she's just remembered that Cheryl will take anything that Betty says and use it against her if the need arises. And it might, even though there will never again be a time that Betty will need to be reminded of her place in Cheryl's life because she's tried to get Cheryl to side with her instead of Jason about anything. "Never mind. I'm sorry about Jason."

"Me too," Cheryl says, grimly. She looks up at Betty and, making the decision to follow through on her wonderful, horrible idea, she slowly, deliberately, reaches up to smooth a flyaway strand of hair back behind Betty's ear.

"Oh," Betty whispers, eyes widening. She nods, and then she's pushing Cheryl back against the ball cage, wrapping her fingers around the wires and boxing Cheryl in. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Shut up," Cheryl says. She tilts her head back, letting her hair swing down and elongating her throat in the way that Betty used to be crazy about. "I didn't bring you here to talk."

"Just this once," Betty says. "Because I feel bad for you."

And that's not what Cheryl wants to hear - she doesn't want anyone's _pity_ ; she doesn't want to take on people's sorrow and grief when she can't even navigate her own - so she leans up, interrupting Betty by leading with her teeth, scraping at her Betty's lips with them until Betty lets her mouth fall open and Cheryl can bite down in earnest.

She bites hard enough to break the skin, listening to Betty gasp against her mouth, but Betty's always liked feeling a little bit of pain and Cheryl has never been able to truly feel better about herself unless she's hurting someone else. They used to be compatible in this way, both coming out of secret little rendezvous with Betty's back all scratched up, welts forming in the dips of her hips, and both of them smiling to themselves as they walked away from each other.

Cheryl doesn't want to feel compatible with Betty ever again, but she needs this now, needs the way that Betty is slipping her knee between Cheryl's legs. The fabric of their practice shorts is thin, and Cheryl can feel the heat of Betty against her hip as Betty bears down.

Betty really isn't that much taller than Cheryl, but Cheryl lets herself slump down, pressing her crotch against Betty's warm thigh, breath hitching as she rolls her hips down and thrusts against the soft skin and firm muscle of it. She's already damp, and she knows from experience that the shorts are thin enough that Betty will feel it sooner rather than later, but she doesn't care. She just wraps her fingers around Betty's ponytail and _pulls_ until Betty gasps and hitches her knee up higher, pressing flat against Cheryl's front.

It's been so long since Cheryl has felt breasts pressed against her own. She's wearing a sports bra, but her nipples pucker up beneath it, sensitive against the fabric and the pressure of Betty's body. 

Cheryl abandons the kiss and uses her hold on Betty's hair to get her to tilt her head to the side. She nuzzles in close and then bites down, hard, sucking enough to pull Betty's blood to the surface of her skin. Betty's neck feels warmer under Cheryl's tongue as the bruise forms, skin salty with the sweat of the cheer routine.

Distantly, Cheryl wonders what it would be like if she broke Betty's skin, if the blood rushed over her tongue, coppery as Jason's hair. If making someone else bleed would somehow make it okay that Jason did, too. If hurting Betty as much on the outside as Cheryl is hurting inside would be enough to help her push through this fog she's been slogging through for the past two days. 

But Betty just moans, and cups her hands around Cheryl's face, thumbs digging into the pulse points on Cheryl's neck, and uses that leverage to break the bite. She meets Cheryl's gaze for a long, loaded moment, then leans in and kisses her again, softly this time, gently working Cheryl's mouth open with delicate presses of her lips.

It's too soft. Cheryl can't handle this near-apologetic gentle handling. It's enough to make her contemplate slapping Betty, but that's a loaded movement, and one that almost-definitely wouldn't go over very well.

Instead, she shoves a hand between their bodies and cups her palm around Betty's crotch, feeling the warm swell of Betty's mound against her hand and then pressing her fingers up, until the front of Betty's shorts grows damp and moisture reaches Cheryl's fingertips. "Harder," Cheryl tells Betty, and that's the last thing either of them say for a while.

Betty shoves her shorts and panties down, letting them pool around her ankles, so that Cheryl can slip her fingers through Betty's slick folds and pinch her clit, twisting it hard enough to make Betty have to bite Cheryl's shoulder to drown out her shout, knee jerking up and giving Cheryl just the friction that she needs. Cheryl squeezes her thighs together, trapping Betty's leg there, shifting her hips minutely to rub against it. 

Cheryl twists her wrist to just this side of too-painful so that she can crook her fingers, slipping two as deep inside Betty as she can reach and setting up a solid rhythm, rubbing her with her thumb. Betty pushes in for a kiss, sloppy and open-mouthed, loose enough that her lips start to feel cold against Cheryl's, what with how she's panting. 

It's been long enough since they last did this that it doesn't last very long. Cheryl disengages from the kiss long enough to bite into the meat of Betty's shoulder, right next to her bra strap, and Betty grunts through her orgasm, warmth and wet spreading around Cheryl's fingers. The feeling, coupled with Betty grinding her leg up against Cheryl in the way that she always does - the total-body jerk that, half of the time, leads to her having an enviable second orgasm almost immediately after the first - sends Cheryl over the edge, clenching even harder around Betty's leg.

They disentangle themselves, Betty letting go of the woven wires of the cage and stretching out her fingers with a wince, and Cheryl reaching down to tug the wet front of her shorts away from her body. Betty blinks a little bit, bending down to pull her underwear and shorts back up, and then she leans in and totally fucking surprises Cheryl by pressing a quick, soft little kiss to the corner of Cheryl's mouth.

"Good talk," Cheryl says, her voice rougher, more affected by everything than she'd like for it to sound. 

"This can't happen again," Betty says. She reaches up to adjust her bra strap, sucking in a sharp breath when it brushes against the bite mark Cheryl left on Betty's shoulder. "You know that, right?"

"Obviously," Cheryl says, rolling her eyes. They're still standing less than a foot apart, staring at each other, though. "Shouldn't have happened just now, either."

Betty sighs and nods. "Pedis, then?"

+++

They just… don't stop spending time together after that, though. They get their nails done and Cheryl follows Betty back to her house.

In her defense, Betty doesn't stop her.

She's still feeling extremely off-kilter, but she hasn't tuned out once since they snuck out of the equipment room and into the changing room showers. They've kept up lighthearted conversation about literally nothing with any kind of emotional resonance for either of them through washing the smell of their indiscretion off of their bodies and getting their nails polished by professionals in River Vixen blue. 

Betty's redecorated her room since they officially ended things. Cheryl had done the same, actually, in the month after that last fight, but instead of going pinker, she'd gone darker, staining the wood features a deeper brown, lowlighting the pinks with reds.

"Your room is super cute," she tells Betty, and, playfully, straddles her to start stroking blush onto Betty's cheeks. Betty is so pretty with her hair down like it is now, but Cheryl could never tell her as much, so she settles for tucking it, gently, out of the way as she tries to coax some kind of cheekbones onto Betty's face.

The problem is, she's starting to feel comfortable around Betty again, legs brushing together and the warmth of Betty's breaths soft on Cheryl's face as she leans in to fix Betty's eyebrows. Comfortable enough to remember what they used to have favorably, comfortable enough to actually apologize for the way that she's been treating Betty lately. Betty's always known that Jason comes first in Cheryl's life - before fuckbuddies, before girlfriends, before parents. But that doesn't mean she had to salt and burn the earth when Betty tried to side with her own sister over him, necessarily. That doesn't mean she had to keep picking at the scabs of their failed attempt at a pseudo-relationship every time she and Betty run into each other.

But. She shouldn't be feeling this soft about Betty anymore. This was never supposed to happen, not again. Betty is looking up at her with something akin to kindness, and it rankles under Cheryl's skin, an itch that she has to scratch, to claw out and do away with forever, so Cheryl switches tactics. "How is Polly, anyway?" she asks, brightly, moving over to Betty's right eyebrow. As if it's just occurring to her, she adds, "Didn't she and Jason also have a major fight last summer?" 

The goodwill drops off of Betty's face even faster than Veronica Lodge decided that Betty was destined to be her new best girlfriend. "What are you implying?" she asks, suspiciously.

"You dumb _bitch_ ," Cheryl says, rolling her eyes and stepping back, off of Betty's lap. "I think your crazy sister killed my brother."

Betty stands up fast and presses closer and closer in to Cheryl, until Cheryl's not sure whether Betty is going to hit her or slam her against the vanity and eat her out, using her teeth and her tongue interchangeably. 

Instead, she grabs Cheryl's wrist and squeezes until it hurts. "Get the fuck out of my house," she hisses, flinging Cheryl's hand away from her. "Before I kill you myself."

Cheryl tosses her hair and goes.

The next day, Betty is all buddy-buddy with Veronica again. Cheryl doesn't explore the way her heart sinks at the sight, but all the clarity that she's felt since Betty came against her fingers dissolves, slowly, as her mental fog rolls on back in.

+++

Cheryl had been banking on the pep rally being just the ticket to get her back on top and feel better about her world crashing and burning around her. After all, there's truly nothing like being in charge of something that's largely inconsequential to remind you that you're in charge of so much more than that.

Except.

Archie looks like Jason at the pep rally.

Cheryl had not been banking on Archie, a redhead, wearing Jason's number and bursting through the paper Bulldogs banner. She hadn't been banking on the wrenching in her gut when she realized: _no, that's not Jason. It's not him and it will never be him ever again._

She hadn't been banking on fleeing the rally.

And she _certainly_ hadn't been banking on Veronica following her and talking to her, putting her hand on her shoulder and squeezing lightly as Cheryl cried, ugly sobs that did next to nothing to dislodge the weatherproofed makeup she'd so carefully applied right before the rally and the rain. 

"I know," Veronica murmurs, scratching Cheryl's back. "I know. I know."

"You don't," Cheryl hisses, and she blurts, "He was supposed to come back," before she can remind herself that revealing the plan _now_ would only serve to implicate her in her own twin brother's death.

"What," someone says, softly, behind the two of them, and they both whirl.

Betty is standing there, soaking wet from the downpour outside. "Betty," Veronica says, startled, warningly.

"Cheryl," Betty says. She walks over to them, slowly, like Cheryl's some wild animal that she's trying not to spook. Her sneakers squelch as she walks. "What do you mean, he was supposed to come back?"

"Never mind," Cheryl snaps. When she's mean to Betty, she's not crying, so she'll be as big a bitch as she possibly can, if that's what it takes. She'll be the biggest bitch in Riverdale. She'll be a bigger bitch to Betty than Mrs. Cooper is, if it keeps her from crying in front of Betty Cooper and Veronica Lodge for one more second of her life.

Veronica and Betty exchange a look. "She can't come home with me," Betty whispers, like Cheryl can't even hear her. "Mom already saged my room. If she comes back again, they'll probably - never mind."

"Me and mom just have the apartment," Veronica says. She stops scratching Cheryl's back and just squeezes her shoulder. Ironically, it's the same place that Cheryl bit Betty just one day earlier. "But you can both come over, if you want." She squeezes Cheryl's shoulder again. "Cheryl? Do you want to come over?"

Mostly Cheryl just doesn't want to be here, crying in front of anyone. She wants to be back with Jason at the beginning of the summer so she can tell him the plan is a stupid fucking idea and they should try something else. "Okay," she says.

+++

It turns out, Cheryl gathers, on the way to Veronica's apartment, that Betty and Veronica were fighting about Archie.

"I didn't think you actually genuinely liked him like that," Cheryl blurts, before she can stop herself.

She _does_ manage to school her expression in time, to keep from wincing. She doesn't _actually_ care if Betty or Veronica really do like him. And even if she did, she's still pretty sure that she read the situation right: that Veronica is super into Betty. Betty's probably into Veronica, too. Anyway, Betty only started looking at Archie like he was of _any_ sort of romantic interest after she and Cheryl ended things. Cheryl is _so sure_ that Betty is actually just projecting her feelings onto Archie, or even making them up entirely because she somehow can't see what a big fat lesbo Veronica is, that she would stake Jason's good name in the community on it.

"Well, I do," Betty says, after a long, sharp, pregnant pause. 

"Hm," Cheryl says, dismissively.

Veronica gives the two of them an unreadable look, but when Betty darts down to the corner store to pick up some junk food for the three of them, Veronica turns on her. "How long have you been attracted to Betty Cooper?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I could ask you the same thing," Cheryl says, raising one of her own right back at Veronica. "If it wasn't so obvious that it's been all of the week and a half that you've been in town."

Veronica looks like she's going to argue, but she sighs and shakes her head minutely. "I'm going to be nice to you because your brother is dead and you're sad," she says. "But I'd appreciate it if you didn't repay us by being a bitch. At least for tonight."

"I can try," Cheryl says, dismissively. She doesn't mean it - if being a bitch makes her feel better, she'll go all out - and the suspicious look Veronica gives her confirms that she doesn't believe her one bit.

It's… weird. When Betty gets back, she's clearly uncomfortable around the both of them. Cheryl can't tell whether Betty is mostly sitting at the edge of the room, not saying much of anything, because of the fight that she and Veronica are still getting over, or because of she doesn't want Veronica to find out that she and Cheryl have a past. 

Cheryl doesn't like it, but she doesn't have much of anything to say, either. She's already broken down in front of the two of them. It's hard to bounce back from that, especially when she can't drag her thoughts away from running through her and Jason's plan one more time: Cheryl used her wiles to steal their neighbor's prescription pad and mixed the dosages of a bunch of different things to put together a true kicker of a drug cocktail that Jason could use in an emergency to get out of any unsavory situation - or to get Polly out of one; Jason had packed a bag over a series of weeks, buying a shirt here and a water bottle there, nothing out of the ordinary at any given time; they'd gone out in the boat together and, once they were far away from any prying eyes and close to the rapids down the river, Jason had given Cheryl a big bear hug, smacked a kiss on her cheek, and said, "Call you from the other side."

Then he'd slipped into the water and swum across. Cheryl had rowed a little further down, climbed onto the bank, and sent the boat coursing down the river toward the whitewater. For effect, she'd dipped into a little still bit by the edge to really drench herself before hiking down next to the rapids and huddling on the rocky shore, waiting for someone to find her.

Jason was supposed to call within the month, to check in. There were supposed to be newspaper articles about Polly disappearing, too. Cheryl was supposed to take a solo trip to Canada - _maybe_ sucking it up and dragging Betty with her, if Jason had told her to, or if Betty had gone to her for commiseration grief-sex early on in the course of their plot and they'd ended up rekindling their whatever - over spring break and be reunited with her twin. By then, they'd figured, the anger would have died down, supplanted by relief from both sets of parents that their kids were fine. Together, sure, but fine.

He wasn't supposed to actually die. The gunshot wound in his forehead… that was never part of any plan of theirs.

Cheryl's only consolation is that it's clearly not her fault. She was so positive that there was no possible way she could have mis-measured the meds - she'd been so careful about it, painstakingly blending batch after batch until she could do it in her sleep. She hadn't wanted any mistakes. 

Jason's death isn't on her.

"It's not my fault," she whispers.

"Of course it's not," Veronica says, rolling her eyes. "It's obvious you, um. Liked your brother a lot?"

Cheryl hadn't realized anyone could hear her. "He's my best friend," she says, and then, barely above a whisper: "Was. Was my best friend."

Betty, still off to the side, snorts. When she looks up and realizes that both Veronica and Cheryl are staring at her, aghast, she says, sincerely enough, "Sorry. I know he was, like, the most important person in the world to you. I can't imagine how you're feeling right now."

There's a hard edge to her tone. Cheryl doesn't like it when Betty shows spine. She'd always been the one calling the shots between the two of them, except for when it came to how secret they kept their fling, or whatever. That had always been the both of them, agreeing together.

Cheryl still doesn't really know Betty's reasons for keeping the two of them hush-hush, but she suspects that it's also because Betty saw how their parents reacted to their siblings. Or maybe Betty just didn't care. Cheryl certainly didn't want to jeopardize her social standing by announcing she was fucking Betty Cooper, of all people. 

She wonders, passingly, if Jason would have begrudged the secrecy of her thing with Betty, if he'd known about it. She was never actually truly jealous of him and Polly, but sometimes she does wonder how things might have gone if they'd told anyone else at all about their thing. She does wonder if she'd be feeling this hollowed-out and horrible if he'd died knowing all of her secrets.

Betty lost Polly, in a manner of speaking. Not in the same way that Cheryl lost Jason, and they were never as close as Cheryl and Jason, but they were friendly. It's still a sort of loss.

Jason died trying to get to Polly. That doesn't mean that it's her fault.

"I don't actually think your crazy sister murdered my brother," Cheryl tells Betty. If he'd gotten to her, Cheryl would have known. There's no way he made it all the way.

Betty just gives her an angry look, lower lip pulling into a pout even as she frowns. "How could she, even? She's too shut up for it."

Cheryl shakes her head, damp hair slapping against her skin. "Never mind."

Betty stands up, moves a little closer. She doesn't reach out and put her hand on Cheryl's arm, but Cheryl doesn't really want her to. "I really am sorry about Jason."

"You hated him."

"I hated you too," Betty points out. "That doesn't mean that I didn't also--" She pauses, pressing her lips together in a tight white line. "Whatever."

Veronica is looking between the two of them. "Did you two used to be… friends?" she asks, trepidatiously.

"God, no," Cheryl says, disgusted. 

"Not even a little bit," Betty agrees, vigorously shaking her head. 

Being Cheryl Blossom means never having to say you're sorry, and she stands by that. Feeling bad about the choices you make takes way too much time and emotional energy, and really doesn't do anything for you in the long run. 

One of Cheryl's truths is that she always lashes out the worst when she's feeling guilty. It's a great mechanism for reminding herself that she's better than all that gross emotional stuff.

So instead of apologizing for being a bitch to the two of them - hey, she's sad; what better way to wallow than admit she makes mistakes and, in doing so, make herself even more sad? - she tosses her hair again, haughtily this time. "Just fuckbuddies."

The way Betty's face goes carefully blank and Veronica's eyes grow round and wide, mouth falling open - it's priceless. 

"Cheryl--" Betty says. She doesn't say anything else.

"What?" Cheryl says, glibly, like she doesn't know exactly _what_. "Oh, you mean the secret thing? It's not like Veronica minds." She casts a glance over to Veronica, who is still aghast, cheeks a vivid red. "Do you, Veronica? Or are you jealous?"

" _Her_?" Veronica squeaks, directing her shocked expression over to Betty. "She's _horrible_."

"Uh, excuse me? I thought we all came here to make me feel better?" But Cheryl doesn't feel better, even for the sucker-punch she _knows_ she just dealt the both of them. Jason is still dead. He was the only person who truly liked everything about Cheryl - he probably would have even liked that she was fucking his girlfriend's little sister - and while she doesn't particularly care about being liked, a tiny, insecure voice in the back of her head is saying _well, good, because now these two will never ever like you_.

 _They were never going to like me, anyway,_ she tells the voice, but that doesn't make her feel any better either.

"She wasn't always the biggest bitch in the world," Betty says, defensively, like Cheryl (a) isn't right in front of them and (b) hasn't been jockeying for the Biggest Bitch in the World title since _elementary school_.

"I'm surprised you didn't figure it out," Cheryl says, ignoring both of them. "Betty, you haven't even tried to cover up that ginormous hickey on your neck. What, did you think _Archie_ gave it to her, Veronica?"

"I hadn't noticed," Veronica says, faintly. 

Cheryl doesn't believe her, but she lets it go. "And I don't know why you're embarrassed that Veronica knows what a giant lesbian you are, Betty," she says. She's never liked all the times Betty used to insist to her that she's bi, not gay. That has definitely always seemed fake. "Considering she's totally hot for you."

"Wait," Betty says, head whipping around to Veronica. "You are?"

"You hadn't noticed?" Veronica says, tucking her hair behind her ear self-consciously. "I thought I was _glaringly_ obvious."

"Don't worry, you were," Cheryl says. "Betty was just trying too hard to like that dumb redhead kid to pay attention."

"Are you talking about Archie or yourself?" Veronica says, archly. 

Cheryl gives her a withering look. She doesn't have any need to dignify such a question with a response. 

"Cheryl," Betty says, carefully, after watching Cheryl for a long moment. "I know you're hurting right now." She walks forward, slowly, like Cheryl is an animal that could attack at any moment, reaching one hand out in front of her. "It's okay to hurt."

"Why are you always so wrong about everything, Betty Cooper?" Cheryl demands, eyes hot with emotion. She tries blinking it away, but when Betty's hand reaches her shoulder, a lone angry tear spills over the edge.

She doesn't wipe it away, because that would draw attention to it. "It is," Betty says, drawing closer still. "I promise. You can hurt for as long as you need to and that's okay. It's okay that you've been hurting for three months. It won't last forever."

Except Cheryl has been hurting for less than a week. To her, Jason has only been dead for a few days. Jason, and all of her plans for their future - getting out of Riverdale and out from under the thumb of their parents and moving to a bigger city and still being in total control of _everything_. And there's no guarantee that she won't feel like this forever. Not one.

"You'll adapt, eventually," Veronica says. There's still anger in her voice, but she's looking at Betty's hand on Cheryl's shoulder like it doesn't make sense.

So Cheryl takes the absolute most obvious course of action and puts her hand over Betty's, and uses that leverage to pull her in for a kiss.

Betty goes into it willingly enough for someone who, less than a day ago, was saying this couldn't happen again, mouth opening underneath Cheryl's, warm and wet and way too gentle. She cards the fingers of her free hand through the tangled mess that is Cheryl's rain-drenched hair. 

Next to them, somewhere, Veronica makes a noise deep in her throat. There's the sound of footsteps, and then Cheryl feels another hand cradling the back of her head, holding it steady for Betty.

When Betty pulls away, Veronica swoops in. "This will help?" she asks, voice barely even a whisper, eyes searching Cheryl's.

"It won't hurt," Cheryl says. It's all that she's willing to say.

Veronica nods slightly - so slightly - and leans in the rest of the way.

Veronica is a much more forceful kisser than Betty is. Her lips are demanding, fast and strong like a boy's against Cheryl's own. It immediately throws Cheryl off balance - she's used to being the one to take lead in a kiss, to push forward and pull moans out from deep, deep inside Betty with her tongue and her teeth. 

Being on the receiving end of a kiss like that is - a lot. She reaches behind Veronica so she can wrap a hand in Veronica's hair and tug at it once, sharply, until Veronica lets the press and slide of her lips grow slower, gentler, just soft enough for Cheryl to turn the tide and nip at the seam of her mouth, an exploratory little nibble.

Veronica exhales heavily, promisingly, so Cheryl licks into her mouth, sucking the breath from it to strengthen the kiss and create a seal between their lips.

There's a _pop_ as Veronica pulls away. Cheryl is very nearly about to protest, when Veronica reaches out and wraps her hand around Betty's wrist, letting Betty keep her hand on Cheryl's shoulder but using the leverage to pull her in for a deep, slick kiss. Cheryl can see _tongue_.

She's offended that they're not kissing her, but also - now that Veronica isn't making it some awful performative statement at the end of a truly lackluster cheerleading audition - it's kind of hot, to see the way Betty is falling into the kiss from outside the context of being _in_ the kiss. The way that Betty's knees buckle slightly, bringing her closer to Veronica's height. The way Veronica grips Betty's wrist tighter, and tighter still.

But Cheryl has never been someone to stand on the sidelines in her entire life, so she tugs Veronica down until she's straddling Cheryl's lap. Betty clearly doesn't want to break away - her cheeks are mottled pink as she bends over, following Veronica's mouth with her own. Their arms are now wrapped around Cheryl's back, pulling Cheryl's neck forward as they continue to kiss.

This won't stand at all. Cheryl leans in, wedging her face closer to theirs, and brushes Veronica's hair free from her shoulder. Then, tugging the neckline of her Vixens uniform aside, she bites the flesh where Veronica's neck meets her shoulder, teeth sharp and demanding. 

"Ouch," Veronica yelps, breaking her kiss with Betty, but she tilts her head to give Cheryl better access instead of pulling away, so Cheryl licks over the spot, getting it wet and soothing the ache of the bite.

Betty intervenes, nuzzling against Cheryl's ear, breath warm and damp and uncomfortable until she drags Cheryl's earlobe into her mouth.

Cheryl is still wearing the diamond studs she put on for the pep rally, but Betty works around them, carefully tugging at the stone with her front teeth and then swirling her tongue around it all, moving to worrying at Cheryl's earlobe next to the piercing instead of over top of it. She lets her free hand drift down to Cheryl's lap as she goes, squeezing her thigh with a well-practiced hand. 

"There's," Veronica says, voice high and tight - with arousal? - as Cheryl works at giving her a hickey to match Betty's. "A bed."

Cheryl tenses up, and Betty does too, enough for Veronica to notice. They haven't used a bed since the first time. It was too intimate, and too dangerous - they both had siblings and parents who could come home at any time. A bed is a big step.

"We don't have to," Veronica adds, uncertainly, but Betty releases Cheryl's earlobe with a slick little sound and tilts her head. 

"No, we can," she says, catching Cheryl's eye. "Right?"

"Yeah," Cheryl says. The chair is perfectly sufficient for her and Betty, but adding a third party - that might be hard to maneuver. "That's fine."

It's hard to stand up, at first. Cheryl hadn't noticed how weak her knees had gone, what with all that emotion and subsequent kissing. Betty catches her arm and drags her upright, and Cheryl shoots her a look, surprised that she's stepping in.

She doesn't thank her, though. She doesn't see a need for that.

Veronica unzips her cheer skirt and lets it fall to the ground in a little unkempt puddle as she walks to the bed, following that up by dragging off her damp shirts until she's just standing there in her spankies and bra, breasts small but full in the lace cups of it. She pauses by her bed, hip cocked to the side and one hand resting on it. Her arm is a graceful arch, and for a split second, Cheryl is overcome by blinding jealousy at how comfortable Veronica looks in her own body.

Then she reminds herself, sternly, that she's the hottest shit in the entire school and, yanking her arm away from Betty's grasp, takes off her own cheer uniform. She kicks her spankies off, too, and unclasps her bra. If they truly mean business, then the fewer clothes they're wearing, the quicker they can all get to the point.

"Betty?" she asks, brusquely, lifting an eyebrow until Betty rolls her eyes - Betty Cooper actually _rolls_ her _eyes_ \- and follows suit.

Cheryl knows Betty's body almost as well as her own, at this point, but it's been awhile since she's seen this much of her skin. It's distracting - tantalizing, even - to get a good, hard look at all the places Cheryl's been with her mouth and her hands and, on one memorable occasion, a _very_ intense little bullet vibrator. 

Cheryl wants to touch. She wants to make Betty hurt as much as she's hurting. The knowledge that Betty would like that, too, would like for Cheryl to lay her down and scratch and bite and kiss and suck at her body, way past the edge of what Cheryl herself would consider to be the threshold of pain and pleasure, makes it all the better, because as much as Cheryl hates the very idea of Betty existing in the same space as her seven times out of ten (if she's generous), she does try not to cross the line between "bitch" and "truly reprehensible person."

She wants to show Veronica how well she knows Betty's body; how she knows exactly how to elicit Betty's loudest, lowest groans and gasps, how she can make Betty come three times in twenty minutes when she puts her mind to it. How even if Veronica starts to try and mimic Cheryl's success, Cheryl will always have been there first.

If she gets to Veronica before Betty ever does - tasting her, lapping up her wetness as she fucks it out of her with her fingers, learning how her breasts feel against her hands and her mouth - then they'll all know that Cheryl was first with both of them. Even if Veronica gets what Cheryl suspects she wants, and she and Betty are together forever or whatever, Cheryl will still win. Every time they kiss, they'll have to push through the ghost of Cheryl's presence to do it.

The thought sends a thrill through Cheryl, right down to the tips of her toes.

(Cheryl doesn't exist under any kind of delusion that the way she interacts with the world is anything but supremely fucked up. The therapist her parents got her when Jason first disappeared has been trying to make her see that her possessiveness of everything she's ever had, along with blend of reacting immediately to everything as soon as it happens, plotting ahead to get things to go her way otherwise, and generally trying to keep total control of everything around her isn't sustainable - Cheryl _knows_ that's his goal, and she knows it isn’t necessarily the best approach in the world - but she doesn't care enough to bring herself to stop. It works for her, mostly.)

She takes two steps forward, knocking Veronica back against her too-soft bed and straddles her lap. "I can show you how we do it in Riverdale," she says, reaching back to pull her hair out of the way. She gathers it in both hands, tying it into one big knot. With the way it's frizzing from the rain, it might even stay that way, out of her face, for at least a few minutes.

Then she leans forward, sliding her body down Veronica's, and takes Veronica's spankies off with her teeth.

By the time that she's gotten them off from around Veronica's feet, Betty has moved onto the bed. She has a hand cupped around one of Veronica's breasts, thumb rubbing her nipple into hardness. 

Cheryl huffs. She works her way back up Veronica's body, pressing little biting kisses here and there, until she can fit her mouth over Veronica's other nipple, grazing it with her teeth until it's jutting, hard, against her tongue. 

When she pulls back, Betty is kissing Veronica, slick slides of their tongues as audible as Veronica's little gasps when Betty tangles her fingers in Veronica's hair.

No matter. There's one surefire way to get both of their full attention. 

Cheryl rocks back on her heels and casts a look over Veronica's body, trying to suss out the best approach to her plan. Veronica is fully shaved. While Cheryl maintains her hair down there, keeping the small patch of it that she leaves untouched tidy, she doesn't remove all of it, and Betty only does a little bit of maintenance and neatening. The complete lack of hair is new to Cheryl, but at least Veronica has taken care of it recently enough that there's no stubble to scratch the skin around Cheryl's mouth. 

Coming to a decision, Cheryl grips one of Veronica's hips with one hand, pressing the other against her inner thigh to get her to spread her legs further out. Veronica moves slowly, distractedly, and when Cheryl looks up, she's still kissing Betty.

In turn, Cheryl moves her hand from Veronica's thigh and presses two fingers deep inside her, crooking them forward as she fucks them further in.

"Fuck," Veronica hisses against Betty's mouth. She breaks the kiss to crane her neck and look down at Cheryl.

Cheryl smirks back, then lowers down, pressing the tip of her tongue hard against Veronica's clit, thrumming at it steadily. 

It's a bit of an awkward posture, her hand working so close to her face, but it's paying off - Veronica gives these little grunting gasps, head lolling hopelessly to the side, mouth growing slack, and Betty is forced to move back to rolling Veronica's nipples between her fingers to stay engaged. Cheryl's chin grows damp with the sweat and the slick of Veronica, so she works her way further down, catching Veronica's taste on her tongue, pulling her hand to one side so she can press her tongue in with her fingers.

Veronica tastes good - clean, and not musty, even though she's been wearing spankies for hours, cheering in them and sweating in them and standing in the rain in them, and Cheryl catches herself straining for more, licking harder and deeper and faster.

"Move up again," Veronica whimpers, so Cheryl flicks her tongue against Veronica's clit again, digging under the little hood there and humming.

She doesn't know if Veronica would like or hate her using her teeth - if it was Betty, Cheryl would already be grazing her clit with them, drawing it into her mouth and only-just not biting down - so instead she fits her lips around Veronica's flesh and sucks, still running her tongue over and over the nub until Veronica shouts, hips coming off the bed, thighs pressing together on either side of Cheryl's face, a rush of wet musk coming across her tongue.

" _That's_ how we do it in Riverdale," Cheryl says smugly, sitting up and moving over to Veronica's side. She drags the back of her hand across her face to wipe off her mouth. Magnanimously, she leans in to kiss Betty so that Betty can also get a taste of Veronica, wrapping an arm around Betty's back as she leans in so that she can scrape her nails down the planes of it, hard and deep.

Veronica stares blearily at the two of them, the way they're leaning into each other over her body, the way Betty is pushing into the dig of Cheryl's fingers in her skin, the way Cheryl is thrusting her chest up to give Betty the hint that she should probably start licking her tits now. Slowly, Veronica, still staring, reaches up and over, stroking her blunt nails tantalizingly over the sensitive skin of Cheryl's inner thighs, barely even touching. 

Goosebumps prickle over Cheryl's skin. Betty leans in further, pressing against Cheryl's front until she lies back against Veronica's bed, then climbs over Veronica to straddle Cheryl's torso. "Want me to sit on your face?" she asks, carefully, like she's half-convinced Cheryl will say no.

Cheryl isn't opposed to the idea. It isn't always her thing, but something about drowning out the world and focusing only on the slide of her tongue and the taste and weight of Betty Cooper is tremendously appealing in this moment.

Slowly, she nods.

Betty leans down and kisses her one more time, deep and penetrating, more tooth than tongue, then slides up her body, carefully settling her knees down on either side of Cheryl's head, hovering a few inches out of reach. "Scratch my thigh if you want me to move," she says, forcing Cheryl to make eye contact.

"I'll push you the fuck off of me if I want you to move," Cheryl says. She goes for a smirk, but it comes out more like a smile. Betty smiles back, a quick, hopeful quirk of her kiss-swollen lips.

And then Betty is lowering herself down, carefully propping herself up with her hands, until she's firmly settled and all Cheryl can do is breathe the smell of Betty through her nose - which just barely avoids being pressed up against the skin of Betty's pelvis - and strain up until she catches Betty's labia in her teeth, biting gently until Betty shifts her legs a little wider apart and Cheryl can lick up into her.

Distantly, she registers Veronica moving around on the bed. She doesn't pay much attention to it, as distracted as she is by trying to funnel her tongue into a hard enough and long enough curl that she can properly fuck Betty with it, but when Veronica starts nudging Cheryl's legs apart, her eyes fly open. 

"Yeah," she hears Betty say, and then Betty's hand is tapping against the bed in the same rhythm that Cheryl is tonguing her. "Like that."

And then Veronica leans in - Cheryl can tell, because the tips of Veronica's hair brush against her thighs - and starts licking over her clit in broad, wet stripes to that exact same rhythm. She grabs at Cheryl's thighs, thumbs digging in deep, pushing her legs up a little bit so that she can get closer to Cheryl's cunt, the flat of her tongue dragging inexorably across her clit, rough and slow.

Cheryl gasps, and gets a noseful of hair. Her hands clench around nothing, short nails digging into the palms of her hand, so she moves one down to tangle in Veronica's hair and the other to wrap around the edge of Betty's thigh. She closes her eyes, screwing them up tight, and switches from fucking into Betty with her tongue to swirling it around her barely-protruding clit, catching up all the moisture leaking out of Betty as the muscles in her thighs contract, over and over again, squeezing around Veronica's ears. As Veronica starts licking into Cheryl, switching to rubbing at Cheryl's clit with her thumb, Cheryl goes for broke, taking Betty's clit between her teeth oh-so-gently, barely running the sharp edges of them against it.

" _Fuck_ ," Betty hisses, drilling her hips down, and then: "Sorry," she adds, trying to hoist them a little higher up.

Cheryl is having none of that. She traps Betty in place by squeezing the hand on Betty's thigh even tighter. She's licking at a frenetic pace now, faster and harder the closer that Veronica brings her to the edge. Veronica is full-on pinching her clit now, twisting it between her thumb and forefinger, soothing the ache with the occasional pass of her tongue every time she goes to re-adjust her hold. Cheryl tugs her hair harder to get her to move a little faster, dig a little deeper. She's so close she can feel her orgasm building in the base of her spine.

 _C'mon, Betty_ , she thinks. There are tears leaching from the corners of her eyes - or maybe that's sweat, gathering around Betty's thighs. She's covered in Betty's slick - her chin is damp with it, and it's gathering at Cheryl's neck. From (limited) experience, Cheryl knows how close this means Betty is. The way Betty's thighs are trembling against her cheeks is another tell. 

Cheryl thrusts deep with her tongue, then licks up to Betty's clit in one full, fat-tongued swipe. Then she plays her trump card: she full-on _bites_ it, grinning to herself when Betty literally shrieks and, trembling against Cheryl's mouth, comes.

Betty doesn't squirt, per se, but she gushes, a trickle of wet sluicing down Cheryl's lips and over the side of Cheryl's mouth - Cheryl can't catch it all with her tongue, though she does try.

Predictable, easy-orgasm Betty doesn't get up, and Cheryl licks over her clit again, tongue soft this time, cleaning her as best she can. When Veronica pushes her tongue into Cheryl one last time, Cheryl yelps into the crook of Betty's legs and comes, Betty's second orgasm following as Cheryl squeezes her thigh tighter than ever, nails digging in hard enough to leave deep indents in her skin.

She feels shaky as she comes down from her orgasm, slowly relaxing her hold on Betty's leg and extricating her fingers from Veronica's hair. She's had orgasms that strong before, but it's been a while - fingering Betty in the equipment locker aside, it's just been her and her hand and her high-intensity bullet vibrator for a few months, and that can only go so far. And with _two_ girls… Two girls who clearly want each other, but still fucked her instead of each other… That's incredibly fucking heady.

 _I was there first_ , she thinks, smugly, looking over at both Betty and Veronica as Betty climbs off of her. _No matter what happens with them, no one can take that from me._

And then she rolls over, her tangled mess of hair falling over her face. With one arm - orgasm-weak as it is - she pushes it out of the way. 

"So," Veronica says, once they're all laying out on the bed, arms and legs brushing together. Cheryl is truly, deliciously disgusting, covered in the rapidly-drying wet of both Veronica and Betty. They're all smiling a little, silly, like the fight drained out of all of them with their orgasms. "Feel better?"

Cheryl laughs. "That was - something, all right," she says, rubbing at her eyes with her hands, makeup be damned. 

"Enough to take your mind off things?" Betty asks, propping herself up on one arm and looking over at the other two, hair tumbling down around her hand.

Things. What things? Cheryl frowns, blinking as she drags her brain out of fully-sexed mode.

And then, like a bolt, she's jumping off the bed and running to the bathroom, gasping for breath. She completely forgot that her brother was dead for a full thirty minutes. She was having a _good time_ , even. She orgasmed. She smiled. She had the kind of threesome Jason had always dreamed of having, and he didn't even cross her mind.

She leans over the toilet bowl, heaving, even though she knows she's not actually going to throw up.

Betty comes up behind her and places one hand, warm and a little damp, on the small of Cheryl's back. "Breathe through it," she advises. "It won't go away right away - panic attacks never do - but. It will go away."

Cheryl doesn't correct her. She doesn't want Betty to know that her awareness of Jason - her awareness of the _absence_ of Jason - is all the more painful and disorienting now that it has slammed back into her like so many wrecking balls. 

But there is one thing she _can_ clear up. "I don't get gay panics," she tells Betty. She's still trying to catch her breath, and her voice comes out rough and hoarse. Gross. 

"I never said it was a panic about the lesbian threesome you just had," Betty says, archly. 

Cheryl hates Betty's dry humor. It doesn't fit at all with the image Betty generally tries to portray - the winsome, lonesome girl next door. 

She likes that Betty doesn't push for an explanation, though.

"Good," she says. She straightens up and goes to the sink, splashing water on her face. Veronica is leaning against the door to the bathroom, still completely naked. Her body - it's _gorgeous_ , all soft, smooth skin stretched tight over her delicious little curves, barely even marred by teeth marks. She swallows, hard, at the sight. "Because it's not."

"C'mon," Veronica says, putting a hand delicately on the curve of her hip. "You can both stay the night."

"It's a school day tomorrow," Betty points out.

Veronica rolls her eyes. "I have enough clothes for everyone to borrow," she says, her tone brooking no argument. "Stay."

Betty watches Cheryl until she shrugs one shoulder up, faux-indifferently, then nods. "Okay."

+++

Cheryl has a breakthrough as she slips out of Veronica's apartment, leaving Veronica and Betty curled around each other in Veronica's bed, hands and hearts overlapping and tangled together: it'll be okay. Not right away, not very quickly, but eventually. She'll get through this, and she'll get out of town and out from under her parent's thumb, even though Jason isn't with her. Won't be with her. Maybe she and Betty can both go to break the news to Polly. Maybe that.

And with that knowledge, she can keep it together in public. She can be her regular self, as bitchy as she wants, and rule the entire fucking school. When the coroner comes forward with the autopsy report, she can look at it, and learn what really happened to Jason. 

And then she can track down his killer and make them pay. Whatever brought him down, whatever snuffed Jason's life out decades too early, whoever is behind this travesty, this _tragedy_ … she'll track them down, and she will ruin them.

**Author's Note:**

> yadda yadda and then she gets taken in by the police at school the next day. my terrible, horrible daughter who i love.
> 
> [tumblr ](http://dulosis.tumblr.com)| [if you liked it please reblog it!](http://dulosis.tumblr.com/post/157006435896/fic-a-game-is-something-you-can-win-riverdale)
> 
> feedback makes writing fun :)


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